Let The Storms Commence
by beautifulxliar
Summary: By day, Bella is a normal college student. But by night, Bella works as a stripper. Edward tries to figure out the mysterious Bella, only to come upon some of her deepest, darkest secrets. What will he think when he figures it out? What will Bella do? Lots of Alice in the story as well! Rated M for a reason, please read the warning inside before continuing.
1. Preface

**_A/N:_** _I do not own Twilight or any of the characters._

 ** _Warning:_** _This story includes rape, self-harm, strippers, cussing, and many other things that you may not enjoy. Please do not read if you don't want to read a story that includes these things._

* * *

 _Preface_

I heard once that a woman would have her heart broken six times before she finally found her true love. Her soulmate. The person who would love her unconditionally.

When I first heard this, I was just a child. From that moment on, I was waiting for my prince charming to swoop in and save me. I waited through every foster home the system pushed me through. I wanted through every birthday, every holiday, and every insignificant day in my life. I waited through all of the good. I waited through all of the bad. I waited through every thunderstorm that caused fear to overtake me at every crash of thunder or streak of lightning.

But, no one ever came.

And now, I have grown into an adult. I refuse to keep waiting for my savior. I refuse to wait for my prince charming. I refuse to have my heart broken six times by men. At one point in my life, I was a small girl from a small town, with nothing but a broken heart and fear in my life. But at twenty, going on twenty one, I am out to break those six hearts before they have a chance to break mine. I need to prove myself, to the world, that I can become someone, that I _will_ become someone. Those thunderstorms, which I used to cower from, are now my sign of strength, my sign of survival. For this reason, I have the lightning bolt tattooed behind my right ear.

For every heart I break, another tattoo will be placed in line with the one I already have. Because I am a storm. The first bolt, the one I have now, is for the first heart broken – mine. And now that I have had my heart broken for the first and last time, I want revenge.

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 _ **A/N:** Thanks for reading. If this seems familiar, it's just an updated version of an old story. Hope you like the changes if you are reading it for a second time. And I hope you like it if you are reading it for the first time as well! _

_More to come soon!_

 _xx_


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

New York City is a stunning place. Especially at night, when the light from all the buildings illuminate the night sky. I walk slowly away from the city, the side streets growing darker as I walk farther away from the lights of the city. I turn for a moment, taking in the beautiful sights I am currently moving away from. I can see the hotels and skyscrapers from the middle of the city, sticking out above all the other buildings. They almost look smug, as if they deserve to be able everything else in the city. I shake my head and turn back to keep walking away from the city. I have places that I need to be, and sadly, those places are not here looking up at the beauty of the city against the dark sky.

I count the alleys as I walk by them. _One. Two. Three._ At times like these, I wish I could bring Raffy, my tan Great Dane, to work with me. After spending all the months I spent training her, she makes the perfect guard dog. And, it is true that you never know what you are going to find roaming the streets of New York, especially in the part of town that I am currently headed to. She would never attack without my command, but just her size tends to make people take a step or two away from us. In these less than perfect parts of town, I would feel much safer if I had her walking by my side. I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I take the safest route possible. _Clomp. Clomp. Clomp._ I hear someone begin to follow me, obviously a man from the way his feet slam down on the pavement.

"Hey pretty lady, where do you think you're going this late at night all by yourself?" His words slur from his mouth, hanging in the air between us.

I pick up my pace, hoping that he will get distracted by something else and leave me alone after his first comment.

"Just cause you're pretty doesn't mean you get to be a bitch, you turn around when a man is talking to you." He pushes on.

I pause and turn around, assessing the situation while holding back my quip about how there's not a real man present. Most of his body is slim, except for the beer belly extending from his abdomen. He is taller than me, but not by much in these heels. And he is obviously drunk.

"I have somewhere I need to be. You have no business with me, so if you don't mind, I'll just be going." I do my best to cover the shakiness in my voice with a commanding tone. I slide closer to the building, hoping to take some cover in the darkness. I turn around to face the direction that I previously walked in. I begin walking again, praying to anyone that was listening to let this end here.

"Hang on now, beautiful. I just want to talk." I listen closely as his pace picks up, his legs trying to keep up with me. If only I worse something other than these heels tonight, I could have out run him. But, pushing my luck by running in heels could be an unnecessary risk. Especially with how clumsy I can be.

I match my footsteps to his, trying to keep pace with him to keep myself far enough in front of him. I want to give myself enough time to react if he decides to do anything more than talking. However, if it comes down to it, I will have time to take my heels off and run. _Four. Five. Six._ I move past the alleys faster now, as my legs stretch father to get me away from the man. I look down at my phone. 1:36 glares back at me, reminding me that I am already late. I don't have time for this man to catch up with me. I don't even have time for him to try to make a run for me. _Seven. Eight. Nine._ I take the tenth alley way, running slowly as I listen to the man's footsteps fade behind me.

At the end of the alley, I take a right and continue down the road to my bus stop. I look nervously back at the alley as I wait for my bus to pull up, silently praying, for the second time tonight, that the man lacks the time to catch up with me before my bus gets here. I strain my ears, listening for anything that resembles footsteps and I beg my eyes to see through the darkness and down the alley I came from. I hear my bus turn the corner and I watch it pull up to the bench, the doors opening to let me on. I allow myself one more breath relief before I get on the bus. I smile at the driver as I dump the usual money into his outstretched hand.

The bus driver and I made a deal a long time ago when I first came to this city. I get onto the bus every night and he drops me off at a place he is not supposed to stop in exchange for a small fee.

Money makes the world go round.

I walk past the driver, looking at my usual seat. A man reading a newspaper takes up my seat, so I decide to sit just behind him. I take a good look at the back of his head, almost a glare. I'm already late and now my ritual is messed up. First by the man in the alley and now this. Tonight is simply not my night. I look at his unusual copper hair and almost scoff at him.

I turn to look out the window, watching the street lights pass by. I allow myself to take a deep breath, letting the fear fade from my mind. I pull out my phone, sending a quick text to James. _OMW._ Three letters. Three words. And yet, I feel like, once again, I am signing my soul to the devil. Although, I have been selling my soul to the devil, every night, since a few days after my sixteenth birthday. I have been going to the same place. To do the same thing. For the same, faceless people. On my way, I had just sent that in a text message to James, just those three words were enough to make my heart pound in my chest, thinking of what was to come.

The bus slows down, coming to a stop for my personal stop. I stand up, moving to the front of the bus. I smile at the driver as I walk down the steps and back onto the sidewalk. My heels click against the sidewalk as I head towards the club. I knew that I was going to be late tonight, so I put extra effort into my appearance when getting ready for James. My long brown hair hangs in curls down my back and my brown eyes pop because of the smoky eye shadow. My lips, lined in red, provide the "kiss me" look that James is always asking us for. My dark blue, long sleeve, button up shirt is tucked into my black knee length pencil skirt.

I turn onto the street that the club is on. I look at the cards that managed to park near the entrance of the club. _How many people are here tonight?_ I wonder as I look through the cars, knowing the answer to my question is more than I want to know. I walk around back to the entrance set up for the dancers. I pause to take a deep breath, my mind running wild with the ideas of what could happen tonight. I grimace, thinking about what could happen, so I decide to shut off my brain. Things always go smoother when I turn off my brain and stop thinking about what I am doing. I pull the door open and walk in, feeling the air conditioning waft over my bare legs. I shiver slightly, feeling the goose bumps appear.

Walking down the hallway that holds the dressing rooms, I notice that I am completely alone. The girls are no longer in the back and I know that means that I am really late. I walk all the way to the end, where the dressing room that I have used for the past few years is located. I stop in front of the door, my name printed neatly on a white piece of paper taped to the door stares back at me. I refuse the urge to rip the paper from the door as I push the door open. I mood lightens considerably when I see that James is not waiting on me in the dressing room, like I half expected him to be.

I look around the room, looking for anything to be out of place to indicate that James was previously in here looking around. The white walls remove the ability for the room to look homey. The old, white paint is still chipping in several places. The white vanity and barstool sit on the far side of the room. The metal dressing rack stands against the wall to my left and has a single bar full of outfits. I glance over at my wig, bracelets, and contacts sitting on my vanity.

I walk to the dressing rack, slowly looking through the outfits hanging on my wrack. I push aside a green outfit, quickly followed by a red one. When I reach the lacy, revealing black outfit, I pull it off the hanger and move to the corner where I hung up the shower curtains so I could change with some privacy. I change quickly and then move to my vanity.

I spend the next fifteen minutes putting on my blonde with and putting in my purple contacts. The purple contacts give the room a weird purple glow as they slide in place to cover my brown eyes. I make sure the small bandage remains in place on my arm as I pull the tight bracelets in place over my wrists.

I avoid the mirror as I look around the room once again. When I am finally convinced that everything is still in its place, I walk out and shut the door behind me. The hallway is dark and seems to go on forever as I walk down it. Somehow the forever of walking down the hallway isn't enough. I can hear the noise from the crowd as I get closer to where all the men are seated. Music is thumping through the room and guys whistle and scream at whoever is currently on stage. Just like every other night. Nothing around here ever changes. Nothing.

James notices me as I walk into the small area behind the stage. He rushes over and grabs my arm roughly.

"Where the hell have you been?" He pushes himself closer to me, growling in my ear. "Never mind, you're up next." He doesn't give me the chance to answer his question and he digs into my arm a little more.

"You are working the back tonight after your dances. And once you're done there, you'll change back into your street clothes and you'll come to my room. You need punishment for being late." He continues to growl, never loosening his grip on my arm. I nod, silently begging for him to let go of my arm.

When the song ends, he releases me with a little push towards the stage. I pause at the end of the stage, taking one last deep breath as the previous stunning blonde performer walks towards me. She gives me an encouraging smile and pats my ass gently as she walks by. That is our ritual among dancers here. It's our way of telling each other that we are here for each other.

I walk out onto the stage slowly, blinking rapidly as the bright lights blind me. I make my way to the pole in the middle of the stage. I put my hand on it, swing my leg around it and look out at the crowd. I can hear the guys whistle and scream but I ignore them, as always. My mind goes blank as the music starts up and I lean back, starting my performance.

My three songs go by quickly. I pass the next dancer as I leave the stage, doing my best to give her an encouraging smile and I lightly at her ass, ignoring the fact that I feel more of her ass than her "outfit". I head towards my dressing room, knowing I only have a small amount of time to get changed and make my way to the back rooms.

James always insists that we wear a different outfit for the private dances in the back rooms than what we wore on stage. He wouldn't want his girls to look "bad" by showing up for a private dance wearing the same outfit that she already showed all of the men in the club. And of course, the private dance outfits have to have less material. When I get to my room, I lean against the door as I shut it behind me. I need the strength of the door to stay on my feet. I take ten deep breaths, allowing myself to draw strength from them as well.

When I finally start to feel stronger, I look through the outfits on the dressing rack for a new outfit. After looking at several, I finally decide on a deep blue bra and thong. I change quickly, already having wasted enough time with the deep breaths. Working the back mean I have to have more physical interactions with the customers. But, it also means that I will take in more tips. James doesn't cut into our tips like most of the other club owners will. James made enough money from the men before they dished out tips. I hung the old, black outfit on the hanger and put it back on the dressing rack.

I close the door behind me as I head towards the back rooms. The blonde wig sticks to my skin, making my back begin to itch. I make it back to the rooms quickly, walking straight to the white board that would tell me which rooms I need to attend to. I find my name, scribbled under five room numbers. Remembering that I have to meet James after these five rooms, I realize that I am in for a long night. I walk toward the room where my first customer should already by waiting. I stand outside the room, with one hand on the door knob. I take one more deep breath.

"This isn't forever, it's just for now." I quietly remind myself.

I push the door open, putting on the best sexy face that I can possibly manage. I look at the man I would be entertaining for the next thirty minutes. Goose bumps run down my arm as I push down the uncomfortable feeling inside.

"Hey baby, I heard you were looking for me." I make my voice deeper and husky. As I shut the door behind me, the man eagerly nods. I allow my mind to go blank for the second time of the night as I walk slowly towards the man, swinging my hips.

"Let's have some fun, sugar." I wink at him.

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 _ **A/N:** Didn't I promise more soon? Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear some feedback._

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _xx_


	3. Chapter 2

**_A/N:_** I do not own Twilight or any of the characters!

* * *

 _Chapter Two_

Once all of the dances are over, I walk back to my dressing room. James asked that I come in my street clothes, which means I'll be released to go home as soon as he is finished with me. I can't keep my mind off of the last customer for private dances as I get changed in my dressing room. I can still feel his hands on me. We aren't allowed to reject the advances of the men. We are to cater to their every wish, no matter what that wish may be. And the last customer I dealt with wanted more than a dance. Which is probably why James scheduled him for my last dance. The customer did manage to "accidentally" rip my outfit. While James wouldn't care, it would cause me to be short one outfit until I could get to the store to replace it. When my blue shirt and black skirt are back in place, I look around the room to make sure I have replaced everything where it belongs. My wig, bracelets, and contacts are on the counter of my vanity and the outfit that was ripped is tossed haphazardly into the trash can beside the vanity. I gather my pocketbook and shut the door behind me as I leave to make my way to James' room.

James' room is on the second floor of the building. He chose the room that is farthest from the stage and the back rooms. This is the room that he brings girls in when they misbehave as well as when he does our checkups. He doesn't want anything that goes on in that room to make its way downstairs to the paying customers. Mark punishes us often, when we do things we shouldn't do or when we don't do things exactly the way he likes. If we weighed too much during our weekly checkup, when we arrive late, when a customer complains, anything that he can punish us for, he will. And if he doesn't have a valid reason, he will make up one. He always enjoys punishing us.

I walk into the room quickly, not wanting him to find me stalling outside of his door. I look around the room to find he isn't here yet. It was very unusual for him to be here when we walk in. He wants us to wait for him, for us to not know when he is coming for us. I look around the room again, slowly this time. A chair sits beside the door, waiting to hold my things. James' desk sits directly across from the door and there is nothing other than a computer sitting on his desk. I look to the left, where the room opens up. There are three wardrobes pushed against the walls and a table sits in the middle of the room. The leather wrist and ankle bands hang from the table towards the floor, hovering just above it. There are hooks screwed into the ceiling, waiting for someone to be tied up. There is also a closed door that leads to a bathroom on the right. I look back to the door, wondering when James is going to come in.

I know what he expects of me though, so I waste no more time in preparing. I set my purse on the chair by the door. This is the chair that he designated for the things of the girl he was with at the moment. I pull my shirt over my head and I let my skirt fall to the floor once I unzip it. I take the time to fold them and put them in the chair on top of my bag. I stand beside the door, in my bra, thong, and heels. I then drop to the floor, kneeling, as I tuck my arms behind my back, tightly gripping my elbows with the opposite hand, waiting for him to come for me. I drop my eyes to the floor, debating how long I will have to wait.

I can't tell how much time has passed that he has let me kneel here. It must be part of his punishment thought, I have never waited this long. He must have known it would get to me, kneeling in this position for so long without moving. I hear footsteps outside of the door and I use my last moment to make sure my posture is correct. I keep my eyes glued to the floor as he walks in, but I can feel him staring at me, assessing my body, I'm sure. His normal punishment is whipping, which is what I assume he is going to do. Whipping is his favorite because it can be felt, but by tomorrow night when it is time to dance, even though it would still hurt, the marks would be gone. I listen to him moving about the room, gathering the proper equipment. When he has everything prepared as he wants, he comes back to me, gripping my hair in his hands as he pulls my head back.

"Are you ready?" I can hear the smile in his voice. I don't dare answer him or look up at him. I remain motionless as he begins to tell me his plans.

Once the punishment is over, I gather my undergarments from where James threw them on the floor and move back to the chair. I dress quickly, trying to ignore the sting as I bend over and pull the skirt up. I collect my pocketbook from the chair and I glance back to him and I see him putting his things away back in their proper places. I keep my lips pressed tightly together as I slip out of the door and quickly exit the club. I let the cool air surround me as I step into the fresh air of the night. The coolness released some of the tension in my body. I dig in my purse for my phone lighting up the screen when I find it. 5:00 am. I could be home and in bed by 5:45 am if everything goes as planned. I silently thank God that an all-night bus system runs so I can get back to the city. I try to enjoy the walk to the bus stop as the cold slowly numbs my body. There is a sharp sting from my punishment that only gets worse as I walk farther away from the club. I had hoped the cool night air would help calm the stinging, but now that I am outside, I know there will be no relief.

When I finally make it home, the glowing screen of my phone lets me know that it's 5:40am. I made it early. I can hear Raffy sniffing at the bottom of the door, looking to make sure the person coming into the apartment is me. I slide the key into the door and push the door open gently, trying not to hit Raffy.

"Hey, baby." I smile happily as I reach down to pet Raffy. "Let me take a quick shower and then I will take you outside."

She licks my hand sloppily as she hears the word "outside". I close the door gently and I make sure to lock it. I rush into the bathroom, stripping off the clothes and dumping them into the hamper. I step out of the heels and I reach into the shower to turn on the water. I wait for the shower to warm up, avoiding looking at myself in the mirror. I shower quickly, washing the scent of unfamiliar men and sweat off of my body. I wrap myself in a towel and twist my hair up into a bun, squeezing out the excess water. I walk back into the bedroom where Raffy is laying on the bottom of my bed. I pat her head gently as I walk by her and to the dresser. I pull out the clothes that are sitting on top of the neat piles, and go back into the bathroom to get dressed.

When I come out of the bathroom, Raffy is waiting for me by the door. I pull her leash off of the hook and hold it in my hand. I never needed to put the leash on her, she always stays with me and never disobeyed a command. But, some people hate that such a big dog isn't on a leash so I carry one with me, just in case. I don't think I will run into anyone this early in the morning and I don't plan on staying out here long either.

When Raffy is finished doing her business, I let her run a few minutes. When I whistle for her, she comes to my side. We walk back inside the apartment and I put the leash back on the hook. She runs ahead of me and I can hear her jump on the bed and lay down. I go into the bathroom, needing to at least brush through my hair before I go to sleep.

Once in the bathroom, I pick up my brush from its place on the counter and pull my hair down from the bun, letting it fall down my back. I look at myself in the mirror as I run the brush through my long hair. With my face freshly scrubbed clean, I can see how pale I have gotten recently. Maybe a few days in the sun would do me good. I look over my face and down my body. I can't help but think about what I have done tonight, what I have done every night. Everyone has had their turn with me, and I look at my body in the mirror with disgust. I hear James' words throughout my head.

 _You belong to me. You do as I say, when I say. You have no right to be late. You need to be here, you need to please these men. I heard you with the last customer. You need to be nicer, sexier, and give in easier. No one will want your sexy body if you don't stop will all the attitude. And for you to keep dancing instead of getting customers like the last one, you need to get rid of the attitude._ His words are harsh and they sound like they are coming from far away. My hands cover my ass instinctively, trying to protect myself from the pain he was causing me.

Just when I think I will get a break from my thoughts about James and what he did to me tonight, _she_ joins him. Adding in my pain with her hits and words as well. She is just as I remember her, long black hair falling messily from her bun, pale skin, bloodshot eyes, and stumbling and blurred words from the alcohol. I drop the brush back onto the counter as if it had burned me. Without planning the book from my bookshelf ends up in my hands and I am back in the bathroom. I can't even remember going for it. I empty the contents of the hollowed out book onto the floor. With the two of them taking over my mind, it's impossible for me to keep upright.

I slide down the wall until I hit the floor. I look at my wrist, still scabbed and sore from my last break down. My gaze moves up my arm that is covered with tattoos, dark and bright colors swirling in an attempt to distract my mind. I pull my stare away from the tattoos, not having the ability to concentrate on them now. I look at the razor blade that sits on the floor beside me. It mocks me, all shiny and new. It has beauty, depressing beauty, but beauty none the less. I look in the mirror, not being able to stand looking at my arm anymore. The blank stare of my lifeless brown eyes consumes my interest. I look myself over, debating if I am really as horrible as they say I am. My flat brown hair falls down my back, frizzing at the ends. My brown eyes stare at their reflection as if they were something worth seeing. My body, curvy in all the wrong places, even when I'm not sitting with the unflattering hunched posture that I have now. I despise myself and everything I stand for.

I look at the blade once more, telling myself that I'll hate myself even more if I do it. But, I know I can't live without it. I am nothing more than a slave to my desires. Just like those men at the club. And my desires are to cut myself down, feel my pain, and silence my mind, even if only for a minute. I can still hear her voice in my mind, making my skin prickle and my eyes tear up. _Fat. Ugly. Bitch. No one will want you. No one can want you. You're unlovable._ Her words echo through my head on repeat. _Fat. Ugly. Bitch. No one will want you. No one can want you. You're unlovable._ It's with her words that my hate finally peaks and I allow myself to pick up the blade. _Fat. Ugly. Bitch. No one will want you. No one can want you. You're unlovable._

As I bandage my fresh wound, her words have finally silenced, just as the constant hate for myself has. However, I can now hear James echoing through my head. _How could you do this to yourself again? I thought you said you were going to stop? You know you can't preform and show these ugly ass scars off. Cover them up. And for the love of God, stop doing that shit. What the fuck am I supposed to say if someone sees those?_ I shake my head, pushing James out and refusing to give up my moment of peace for him. I look at the bandage again, and finally, I feel nothing. And somehow, nothing is the best thing I've ever felt. I clean up my supplies from the bathroom, taking my time to clean the items before I put them back into the hollowed out book.

I pull the sleeves down over my arms, enjoying my shield from the world. And as I wipe the tears from my cheeks, I realize I was right. As the high fades, my self-hatred returns. But now, it's worse than it was. I return to my bedroom and look at Raffy curled up on my bed. I sigh and turn to my bookshelf, replacing my _Women's Guide to Heels_ hollowed out book back in its place on the shelf. I keep looking around the room, my eyes finally coming to rest on my chair. I stare longingly at the rocking chair and my pencil and notebook next to it. I wish to sit down, to write, to lose myself in my writing. And, maybe, learn how to love myself in my writing. But, the clock pushes that wish away. 6:08am. I must go to bed, I do have class in a few hours.

I sign again as I walk over to my bed. A slight smile grows as I look at Raffy, all stretched out and taking up my whole bed. I push her over a little bit and I crawl into bed beside her. She huffs at me, not wanting to be disturbed, but she lays her head on my shoulder and falls quickly back to sleep. I stare at the ceiling as I absentmindedly run my hand over Raffy's back repeatedly. I lay my other arm out to my side, ignoring the sting when movement pulls on my freshly cut skin. This just might be another sleepless night. I glare at the clock, which the glowing red light to turn back and give me more time. As I think back over the events of the night, I realize that everything is different at night. I can no longer hold myself together at night. And the approaching morning brings the promise of being able to hold myself together better. I hope.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Thank you to everyone who is reading this! A big thank you to everyone who left me a review! I didn't get a chance to reply to any of the reviews before posting this chapter, but I will do better with that this time!

Let me know what you think!

xx


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